I have always wanted to be a poet,
But I feel no pain, I have no joy.
I don't judge moments as they go by.
I never evaluate my feelings,
I notice not the glitches of society.
I regularly fail to understand emotions.
People differentiate, I don't pay heed,
People are partial, I let them be,
People separate me, I gladly leave.
Discrimination has become a normal now,
But being unaffected by the discrimination
Has always been a normal for me.
I see people around me fighting, struggling,
For a cause, for their rights, for just being,
I join them, but I feel nothing of what they feel.
I am almost always thankful and satisfied,
And contentment can never lead to art.
It is the restlessness within the soul
That guides the mind towards creativity.
Almost all great arts come from restlessness.
Be it due to the heights of joy, the zenith of pleasure,
Or the depths of sadness and pits of anger.
God must have been restless when he created us.
With me it's different. I am never restless.
My graph of emotions is a straight line,
Treading the breakeven point of pain and joy.
Calm, composed, deprived of the special power
Bestowed upon mankind from the best of creators.
I figured this out long ago, and I adjust.
I see what others feel and I write, but my words,
They lack depth because the emotions are stolen.
When I write about love, it's always about her,
And not what I feel for her, never.
Because I can't feel what I feel for anyone.
I just know if someone is important,
But I don't know why, when, how.
I write about Nature and I describe her beauty,
But nothing about her influences on human soul.
I write about the wrongs in the society,
But borrowed thoughts lack the personal fire.
Within the confinement of contentment,
I try my best. But my best is not even equal
To that one moment of true emotion felt.
I have always wanted to be a poet,
And may be, someday I'll have a reason to be.


© TRQ
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